The cookie-induced incident

Holiday parties are everywhere this time of year. Work, family and friends all hop on the party wagon for some festive fun. I’m all for eggnog, fatty foods and Christmas music, I even like the wacky holiday sweaters. However, what I’m really looking for at a holiday party is a mistake. A mistake that will leave me saying: “Why oh why did I drink so much? That party was awesome!” or “Why oh why did I eat so many cookies? That party was awesome!” or “Why oh why did I hook up with my supervisor? That party was awesome!” Okay, the last item has never happened. Have I wanted it to? Of course!

Each holiday party I go to I hope to meet a wonderfully mysterious dude to hook up with in the coat check. Of course I never make a move to initiate this to happen but it is one of my fantasies and you can’t judge me for that. Well, you can, but that isn’t nice. A few weeks ago I had a holiday party with my roommate and best friend. We made entirely too much food, had too much alcohol supplied, and too much drama broke out. I was looking forward to meeting a friend of a friend of a friend and inviting him into my room and wooing him with my complete Full House series collection. Unfortunately, the party consisted of the same incestuous group that is always hanging out in my apartment. Don’t you guys have friends for me?

This past Friday my work had a Christmas party in a fancy ballroom. Dragging along my best friend I boasted in the parking lot as we were walking in “I hope I hook up with someone in the coat check!” Laughing at me, Matt knew I would never do such a thing. A girl can dream.


Just hope this lady isn’t planning on sticking around.

Finally my opportunity had presented itself at a holiday party over the weekend. This is a story of disappointment, sex and betrayal.

A cookie decorating holiday party doesn’t exactly scream sex or anything really sexy for that matter, unless you bake penis cookies, which we didn’t. But there I was, wearing a little dress and tights with flats. I looked adorable and sexy all rolled into one (she says modestly.) I hoped this party would have people I’ve never met before so I had to get prepped to meet my party mistake. After a few awkward greetings and name exchanges I was familiar with everyone at the party. Upon further inspection I realized I had met everyone on separate occasions at different times. Disappointment started to set in. Batting my eyelashes at a few possibilities I was beginning to give up hope. SUDDENLY! I was sharing a story of sex and fetishes (oh “Tub Girl,” you have provided me for many years a cocktail story) when I sparked someone’s interest. Lester* was attractive, smart and in his mid-thirties. JAYNE BAIT as I like to refer to him as. Lester asked me more about said Tub Girl and we exchanged laughs and winks. Smitten!



The party was starting to slow down a bit with people leaving for other commitments. I text Matt suggesting he probably shouldn’t come. Then it happened. Lester strolled over to me and sat on my lap. HE FELL DIRECTLY INTO MY LAP. I giggled, he laughed, and party-goers nervously smiled. Conversing quietly, Lester came out and said I was hot. Blushing, I thanked him. Of course many women would probably slap a guy for invading their space and coming on to them so directly. But unlike many women this NEVER happens to me. I’m always the funny girl, never the desired girl. I pulled my phone out of my bra (something that really amused Lester) and text Matt to come to the party, things just got interesting. I started feeling the eyes of judgmental peers so I felt the need to straighten up a bit. I gently laid my scarf across my lap to cover my stems, feeling a bit exposed. Ripping the scarf from my legs, Lester proclaimed “Don’t cover up! Keep that off!” Lester received a verbal lashing from a woman across the room. “Oh goodness, no, really, he’s fine.” I assured the woman. Matt finally arrived at the party and he shook his head at me soon as he walked through the door. I couldn’t stop smiling and blushing, but I was thankful for him coming. I prompted Matt to sit between Lester and me, which he complied. Lester leaned over Matt during conversation and reminded me how hot I am. At that very moment Matt nearly spit out his drink, which later he assured me he was laughing out of embarrassment for never hearing a man call me that. Thanks, buddy.

The night simmered down again and I was feeling the need to pull away. I wanted this guy badly and I knew it would be a problem. A huge problem. I gave the WE NEED TO GO! look to Matt. We packed up our things and said our goodbyes. Lester showed disappointment in our decision to leave, to which he promptly invited us to his New Year’s party. I looked to Matt as if I were saying “That could be fun!” He shook his head and laughed. Lester and I hugged goodbye and we walked out the front door.

Walking down the sidewalk I said to Matt “OH MY GOD. Why are they ALWAYS married?” Lester. Was. Married. The woman in the party giving him the verbal lashing-his wife. HIS FUCKING WIFE. This man, this beautiful specimen of a man, was married. Scum, sure, for flirting with another woman in front of his wife. But lovely scum, delightful scum, scum that made me feel so good about myself that I wanted to be a mistress.

*Names have been changed to save face.

Larry the Shithead: A Story of Dating Exhaustion

Boy meets girl in a bar. Girl thinks boy is attractive, smart, and funny. Boy thinks girl is a total babe and they exchange phone numbers. What do you do when the boy becomes progressively unreliable? This is the story of Kim and Larry.*

Kim is a coworker of mine who is beautiful, funny and very smart. At work one day Kim told us about a man she met the night before at the bar. Larry seemed to have it all; the looks, a job and a personality to match. We were excited for Kim, encouraging her to pursue Larry.

After some texting and failed date attempts Larry finally came around and took our dear Kim out. A movie and dinner I believe. A second date came about, an impromptu night in. Kim was happy and so were we; then came the most recent date.

Kim wanted to go to the movies to see SKyfall with Larry. When Kim messaged Larry to discuss plans it was 9:40pm. Larry suggested they see the movie Flight which had started at 9:25pm. Strike one. When Kim expressed her concern Larry admitted to already physically being at the theater and just watched Skyfall. Strike two. Kim text back to have a good night. Larry, you dumb shit, why would you see a movie you know your girl wanted to see? EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!!

Unaware of his shittery, Larry text Kim “Good morning” the next day. Sure, pretend you didn’t do something dumb last night, Larry. Aware of his shittery, Kim text back asking how the movie was. Larry’s response, he didn’t see it. At this point Kim shouts to us “REALLY? He left the theater after paying for his ticket with his cheap ass?” Larry says he will wait to see the movie with Kim. I call bullshit. Attempting to be reasonable Kim gives Larry a second chance. A chance to redeem himself, maybe he was having an off night.

Around 5:30pm Larry texts Kim telling her the movie starts at 9:25pm. To confirm plans Kim called Larry around 7pm. Where was Larry? Oh, just eating dinner at Applebee’s. REALLY? You are eating DINNER right before your date? Call me old-fashioned but shouldn’t a movie date be accompanied with dinner? Fine, Kim accepts this shitty move and tries to move past it. Don’t be so quick. Larry then goes on to say he will be attending his cousin’s basketball game after dinner. Huh. Okay, Larry. Real cool. Strike three. In the real world you only get three strikes. In the Larry world you are playing with a class-act and Kim gives him yet another shot. After the basketball game Larry texts Kim if he is picking her up or if they should just meet. At 9:10pm Kim responds to meet there. At 9:21 Larry texts which theater to meet at and of course he picks the theater which is 20 minutes away from Kim.

Late to the movie, caught in the rain, Kim arrives to the theater to Larry not being there. Upset and wet Kim changed the plans to go the bar. A shot of Patrone will certainly help in this situation, no? Late boy shows up at the bar as Kim is on her second shot. Kim asked him to take a shot of Patrone with her, so what does he order? Grand Marnier on the rocks. Sure, that’s the same thing. After a few shots Larry and Kim agree to head over the theater and attempt to see another movie, Killing me Softly


Walking past the concessions Larry kindly offers to buy something for Kim; Kim agrees to a bottle of water. Larry, being incredibly frugal, asks the concessionaire how much for a bottle of water. Listen guys; DON’T ask how much something is when YOU offered to buy it. Ugh. The concessionaire responded “$4.75.” in which Larry repeats “$4.75?!” Yes, it is $4.75. It is a movie theater not a gas station. Larry then tries to convince Kim to order a pop instead, because you get more for the same price. IF KIM WANTED A POP SHE WOULD HAVE ORDERED A POP! Feeling defeated, Kim orders a raspberry ice tea.



Finally in their seats, watching previews, Larry decides this a good time to talk sexually to Kim. Larry, you never cease to amaze me. JUST THEN…Larry pulls out a pack of fruit snacks from his pocket. Okay, I’m all about saving money, especially when it comes to a movie theater. But on the first rounds of dating? Larry can’t catch a break. Kim then offers Larry a drink of tea, to which he replies with “No. I’d rather have some water.” *head hits desk*

Poor, poor Kim. Larry is by far the most ridiculous man I have ever heard about. The strikes against him are minor details, but when added up it is though Larry wasn’t trying to impress at all.

Can we please offer Kim some advice or encouragement?

*Names have been changed to save face


You can’t compete with an ex-wife

When it comes to my dating preferences my close friends know I’m a woman with different tastes in men compared to other women. I like my men to be rugged, a face full of unique characteristics, funny, socially charming, and not an ounce of muscle showing. Oh, and another thing, I like my man to come with baggage. Full-blown emotionally jaded, relationship-ily stunted and characteristically flawed. There is something about these men who are so cynically invested in love that they can barely hold their head up. I want to help them, fix them. Now ladies, we should all know by now you cannot help or change a man, especially one who isn’t willing to change. But I can’t help how I feel about these men. They are damaged goods and I’m prepared to pay the price to be with them. My favorite type of damaged goods: divorced men.

My FWB is a classic case of damaged goods. He is divorced from a lesbian who cheated on him. You couldn’t possibly find someone more cynical then this guy. His total outlook on women is depressing, believing all women are cheating whores with no morals. Well done, FWB. You’ve figured out the goal of the entire population of women is to make every single man’s life miserable.

Although my FWB is fucked up because of his ex I guarantee if she were to stroll back in to his life he would scoop her up into his arms and never look back. He speaks fondly of being married to the love of his life and how I should believe in love at first sight. Well, dumb ass, clearly she wasn’t the love of your life if she was more interested in women. Shouldn’t the love of your life love you back? Like, full-heartily, head-over-heels, love?


Ross. Divorced. Sad. Married a lesbian.

Then there was the convict. He was divorced from a woman who sent him to jail. Sure, he totally deserved that sentence and he even more so deserved to be divorced. But I felt sorry for him. I wanted to show him that not all women would kick him to the curb for his mistakes. I worked hard on the relationship, meaning I was very obedient and hardly voiced my concerns. How could I possibly come off as a bad girlfriend when I was willing to be with a convict? I thought monuments should be raised in my honor with a plaque below reading “Oh, this girl? She totally forgives you for your mistakes. And she bakes!”

When the convict and I split up for good, after two long years of on-again, off-again status I thought to myself Good Riddance! Maybe he told me he loved me and maybe I told him I loved him, but I didn’t really know any better. He was my first “love” and I was just obeying to the rules. Years have gone by and I know it was a good decision to split; however, sometimes I find myself thinking about him. The holidays remind me of all the people who have come in and out of my life. I recently couldn’t get my ex out of my mind so I messaged a friend of his on Facebook, asking if she is still in contact with him and what is he up to. She understood my request as curiosity and told me she hasn’t spoken with him for about a year but last she heard he is living a few towns over with his ex-wife and her kids. Fuck.


You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right.

The moral of this story is you can’t compete with an ex-wife. These divorced men, not by their doing but hers, are damaged. The only person holding the First-Aid kit is their ex and no one else. I was convinced my ex would have forgotten how to function without me in his life. I’m naive and an idiot. Of course he got back together with her; she was the person he cheated on me with.

I strongly believe I need to re-evaluate my taste in men.